


Tea Helps You Sleep

by Synesthesia_Demon



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Kinky, Lots of Sex, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, NO rape, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Tea, just mild dub-con, potentially dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-24 03:33:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/934813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synesthesia_Demon/pseuds/Synesthesia_Demon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which John Watson is horny and can't stand to wait for Sherlock to finish the case. Potential dubious consent, unintentionally written that way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tea Helps You Sleep

John was turning into a walking erection.

He and Sherlock had been on a case for the past four days, and when Sherlock was on a case, there was nothing that could distract him from it. His body and mind were so completely lost in his work that John had to force him to eat and sleep, promising him that it would help him solve the case quicker. Sherlock only listened to him because of that, and he only did so to the barest minimum.

Never _mind_ the idea of sex. The word didn't even register in Sherlock's vocabulary right now.

John was so busy running around with Sherlock that he didn't even have time to wank himself more than once, and it didn't help at all. The constant ache and emptiness couldn't be satisfied with anything but Sherlock's thick cock slamming and filling his arse until they were both soaked in hot sweat and sticky cum. John winced as just the thought of it made his neglected erection twitch and throb. He clenched his hands in his pockets and stood, waiting for Sherlock to finish his examination of the blood samples with Molly. His eyes glanced around the room, and fell upon a pill bottle. He picked it up, studying it absently. He chuckled lightly. Viagra. As if he didn't already have erections lasting for hours on end.

He rolled the bottle back and forth between his fingers unconsciously for a few moments before the idea came to him. He slipped it into his pocket. Perhaps he needed it after all.

Later that night, back at the flat, John was brewing tea and preparing to put his newfound idea to action. While Sherlock was showering, he'd crushed a pill into powders and slipped it into Sherlock's teacup. Perhaps, he'd thought, it would distract him enough to help him take care of John's uncontrollable arousal. He heard the _thump_ of Sherlock flopping himself onto the sofa. Probably only wearing a robe. Probably warm and relaxed and smooth from the shower. Probably...

John groaned and rubbed his palm over the bulge in his trousers. It did nothing to alleviate it. He forced himself to focus, to remember that it wouldn't be a problem much longer. He smiled darkly.

John passed the mug to Sherlock, then settled in the armchair and drank his own. He watched as Sherlock gulped his tea as quickly as he could without burning himself. He wanted nothing more than to get back to the case. They were hairs away from finding the missing girl and he couldn't stand to be on the brink for long. He jumped up and paced around the room, not saying a word thinking a million of them. John tried not to watch. He tried to keep his eyes on his own tea, and not Sherlock's long legs or his toned, glowing chest, or his brilliant eyes that flashed with every new thought.

Had he been alone, John would have been moaning and wanking himself into a coma (for all the good it would have done him).

But he set down his mug and muttered, “I'm off to bed.” As he passed by Sherlock he mentioned, “You should probably do the same. You'll be better off thinking about it in the morning.”

He scrambled out of his clothes and slid under the bedspread, palming his throbbing cock and whimpering. He didn't care that he'd be rock hard in a few more hours, he didn't care that he wasn't lying beneath Sherlock and thrusting back against him with his cock deep inside him. He wrapped both his hands around himself, spreading precum that leaked from the tip all over his palms and prick. He needed to cum and he needed to do it soon. He was panting so hard and moaning so loudly that he never heard the race of footsteps up the stairs, and was startled when the bedroom door flew open.

There stood Sherlock, breathless and blissfully naked, hunched slightly and sporting an erection of his own. His gaze was hard, his eyes were darker and hungrier than John had ever seen. Without a word, he stalked over and yanked the blankets from the bed. He held himself over John, with his hands near his head and his legs spread above him. He dropped to one knee and brushed John's cock with his own. The groan that came out of John's mouth was drowned in need and lust and pleasure. And Sherlock couldn't help but pin him down and viciously snog him, biting his lip and thrusting his tongue into his open mouth. He sucked on his neck and earlobe, and slid his tongue into his ear, to John's utter delight. It didn't last, though, for Sherlock was reaching into the bedside table drawer. He slicked himself up and gave a swipe to John's hole before he pushed himself inside him.

_“Hnnngh!”_ John's body trembled as Sherlock stuffed him and began to pound into him, growling and panting. His thrusting shook him and pushed him up towards the headboard. His hands grabbed at Sherlock's arse and pulled at him to go harder, but he grabbed his wrist and forced it down. John lifted his hips to push back against him and as he did, Sherlock's cock slammed into his prostate and he cried out. He grabbed his prick and stroked it to the thrust, and let out a high-pitched scream as he spurted hot cum between their bodies. It was enough to send Sherlock rocketing into his own climax and he threw his head back as he emptied himself into John's tight arsehole. He slumped forward, almost crushing John because he couldn't be bothered to roll over. Dazedly, John reached for some tissues and wet napkins to wipe them both clean (otherwise they'd have woken in a sticky mess). It wasn't minutes before both of them were sound asleep.

“John...”

_Damn it Harry, can't you just stop asking about how my rabbit is?_

“John?”

_No it is not your business if I feed her spaghetti...!_

“John!”

He jolted awake. “Hunh? Whazzwrong? Wuzzit?” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. Sherlock pushed him down again and clambered on top of him.

“John I need you. I need you right now. I'm so bloody hard and I need to fuck you and-”

“Huh? But didn't we just...what time is it?” he asked, confused and slightly alarmed.

“1:30, but it doesn't matter, I need you right now and if I don't have you I'm going to explode,” he hissed, running his hands over his chest and kissing under his chin.

At once, John's cock sprang up in response. He felt Sherlock's grin on his neck and scrambled down the bed. His flattened tongue licked John from the base to the tip, and the playful wiggle he did at the top jerked through John's body. He gasped, momentarily forgetting how to breathe as one hand wrapped around his cock, and the other stroked circles under his balls. Sherlock brushed his lips over the tip, but he didn't suck. No, instead he stared up at John, waggling his tongue just barely enough to touch. He was toying with him.

John thrust into his hand, itching to get some release from Sherlock's sudden onslaught. But Sherlock was having none of it. He held his hips down until John whimpered. Sherlock straightened and ordered, “On your knees, now.”

He was already turning before Sherlock could reach for the lube again. He lifted his arse and bent his torso forward, letting his head fall into the pillows. He spread his cheeks, wiggling a bit, and Sherlock let out a strangled cry.

“If you keep that up I won't even be able to fuck you properly,” he panted, slicking himself up. John bent his head to watch from between his legs as he slid into him. His legs flexed as he thrust in and out, and John's head fell forward again as hands gripped his hips and arse, squeezing and teasing.

“Oh god, John, can you...imagine...how this feels to me?” Sherlock growled, bowing over him. “You are so...bloody...tight...” He grabbed John's hair and lifted him up on his arms. “So...tight...so delicious...” His hand stroked between John's legs.

“Fuck, Sherlock, _fuck!_ ” he whimpered, pushing back against him and shuddering. And he did. He pounded into John for a few short moments before he came. His hand tightened on his cock and wanked him until John too was a shaking mess from a vicious orgasm.

John stood on wobbly legs to clean up properly this time, and only after did he fall back into bed.

“John...” Sherlock was shaking his shoulder. He was trying to wake him up again? What now?

_Oh bloody hell,_ John realized, eyes popping open. _Oh bloody hell, what have I done?_ he thought as Sherlock pawed at him. He flicked at one of his nipples and had John turned on all over again.

By the time the alarm went off that morning, they had fucked six times. Neither of them had the energy to turn it off, so they lay in bed and let it run until it became a background noise. And they finally fell asleep.

Only to be woken 2 hours later by Sherlock's phone.

Sherlock swore and threatened to chuck it through a window, didn't bother to check the ID, and snapped, “Holmes, what do you want?”

“Well I don't know, perhaps any updates at all?” Lestrade sounded annoyed.

“I have nothing at the moment, and I'm quite busy so please do not speak to me again unless I call you!” He hung up the phone and tossed it into his pile of clothing.

“Did you just hang up on Lestrade?”

“I did, and I don't care. I'm quite tired, you see.” He switched off the alarm clock, and there was blessed silence.

“Mmhm,” murmured John, rolling over and sighing. Finally, a chance to rest. Sherlock snuggled in beside him, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close.

Not a minute later, John felt something poking at his back.

**Author's Note:**

> Like what you see here? Come follow me at http://synesthesiademon.tumblr.com/ ! I usually write for Penis Friday, occasionally Red Pants Monday!


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